


Start With Something Simple

by kinky_kneazle



Category: Captain America, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Dom!Steve, Face-Fucking, First Time Domming, Frottage, Hair-pulling, M/M, Past Abuse, Sub!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:17:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/pseuds/kinky_kneazle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"So you're a sinner?"</i>
</p><p>  <i>"Nah, I just dress like one. Makes people less likely to try to debauch me. You, on the other hand, you're just asking to be debauched."</i></p><p>Or the one where Bucky would rather be writing an Econ paper until he overhears an angel speaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Start With Something Simple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [restlesslikeme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/restlesslikeme/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Start With Something Simple 从简单的开始](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331026) by [blakjc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakjc/pseuds/blakjc)



> Written for the Steve/Bucky Holiday Exchange on LJ. Restlesslikeme, I'm so sorry this is so late. I got the prompt late, and then when the story was coming along nicely, the boys stopped co-operating just when they were finally going to kiss. I wasn't sure about a college AU, but did end up with an idea for a college party and managed to get your request for BDSM in there as well. I hope you like it, and enjoy it as a New Year's present rather than a Christmas one.
> 
> This has been translated into Chinese by the lovely blakcj!

Clint knew Bruce, though he wouldn't say from where. And Bruce, Bucky knew, was in some weird will-they-won't-they thing with Tony Stark. On top of that, Natasha had a thing for Tony's friend Pepper and had looked him dead in the eye and said, "You're coming to this, James Buchanan Barnes; I need a wingman." And Tony Stark was richer than Midas and as debauched as the Marquis De Sade, which was why Bucky was standing in a room that looked like it was what a party planner did with the brief "BDSM club". Come to think of it, this probably _was_ a party planner's vision of a BDSM club.

Of course, Natasha's need for a wingman had disappeared within five minutes when she'd wiggled her fingers at him and led Pepper up the staircase. Clint looked to be flirting with five girls all at once, all five giggling in the exact same way at the exact same time, and Bucky was left sneaking glances at his watch and _admiring_ the decorations when his time would be better spent finishing his Econ paper.

Hell, he'd probably be _happier_ writing the paper.

There were swathes of black and red fabric coming off the walls and a stylized St. Andrew's Cross in one corner. Plenty of chains and a display of floggers and whips and nothing like anything Bucky had seen during his experiences as a submissive.

Still, it wasn't actually meant to be a play party of any sort, or even a munch. This was –

"A sinners and saints party, Steve. You're allowed to be a saint."

Bucky slipped into an alcove half hidden by scarlet velvet at the sound of Tony Stark's voice. He'd dressed the part with leather pants and a soft red collar, but he was afraid Stark would take one look at him and know that he wasn't supposed to be here. That he was one of the scholarship kids – too busy working a side-job to study and too tired to get involved in fraternities and parties and whatever else the son of the great Howard Stark gets up to.

"I'm not seeing very many saints," a voice muttered. It sounded mulish.

"You're saint-like enough for all of us."

Bucky turned slightly and could see the group he was eavesdropping on. It looked like Tony and that big fullback with the mythological name. Zeus? Hercules? Ares?

"Thor, how did this guy get through Pledge Week and still be this innocent?"

Thor, that was it. The paper was always full of jokes about his hammer.

"We hid the worst things from him because we were afraid he'd rat us out."

"I'd never-" the last guy said. His back was to Bucky, but he was dressed as a saint, fake wings on his back and a halo over his blond hair. Thankfully there were no white robes of any sort, because the suit pants and white shirt the guy was wearing showed off a rather delectable body. Bucky could see the matching jacket and a trench-coat thrown over a near-by spanking bench. Not a saint, then. The angel from that show Clint liked so much.

"I'm kidding, Steve," Thor said, giving the guy a thump to the back before turning to Stark and murmuring, "Mostly." 

"I'm just saying," Steve said, apparently returning to an earlier part of the conversation, "that it's all very..."

Steve trailed off and even from a distance Bucky could see Stark rolling his eyes. "It's a party, Steve. Try to figure out how to enjoy yourself. I'm going to get a drink."

"I know how to enjoy myself," Steve muttered. "And are you even old enough to drink?" he called after Stark. Stark waved a careless hand over his shoulder as he walked away.

"I'm not kidding, Thor. Is he old enough to drink? Didn't he skip a few grades?"

"Look yonder, Steve. It is the Lady Jane, escaped from the castle that was her prison."

"Prison?"

"Aye. She called it 'the science lab which you'd know if you ever came to class, Thor Odinson', but I fear Stockholm Syndrome. Still, she has escaped the clutches of the evil Astronomy Professor and I must ensure she has not been harmed. Wish me luck, Sir Steve."

"Good luck," Steve replied, dry amusement in his voice. Thor walked away and Bucky heard Steve mutter, "Can't wait 'til Shakespeare semester is over."

Bucky snorted in laughter and Steve whipped around, pinning him with blue, blue eyes. Bucky knew him. He should have realized that this was Steve Rogers, quarterback and captain of the team. After he'd made the All-American side they started calling him Captain America. He apparently also had Vulcan hearing because Bucky was sure that snort was reasonably quiet given the noise of the party around them.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to –" He gestured weakly with his hand before bringing it up to rub the back of his neck. 

"Eavesdrop?" Steve offered. 

"Yeah."

"You're Bucky, right? We have 'America at War' together."

"Yeah. And you're Castiel."

The grin he got was immediate and delighted and made Bucky smile in return. "You watch Supernatural?" 

"Sometimes. My housemate's a fan."

"Oh." Steve looked disappointed that he didn't watch religiously. Then he smiled and stepped forward. "I'm Steve Rogers, by the way. In case, I mean. You might not have paid attention in class." Steve looked up, eyes wide and a little embarrassed all of a sudden. "Not that you don't pay attention –"

"It's okay. I know I have a tendency to snore."

"Sometimes."

"On Mondays. I come to class straight from my overnight shift."

"You work?"

"Gotta eat, right? We can't all be Tony Stark."

"Yeah."

Bucky guessed a hint of bitterness came through in his tone because it seemed to kill the conversation. Dammit, he used to be better at this. Used to manage flirting and small talk and it didn't matter if it was a pretty cheerleader or the captain of the team. Before Karpov.

"So, you're a history major?" he said stupidly, searching for something to say.

"Minor," Steve replied. "I wanted to do art, but my father said if I'm getting a free ride then I'm going to get something useful out of it."

"Pre-med?" Bucky asked. It startled a laugh out of Steve and Bucky found he liked the sound.

"No. Business." 

"Well, that sounds almost as fun."

"I don't know that I'd be much of a business man to be honest."

There was a pause again, and Bucky wished he had a drink, then Steve said, "So you're a sinner?"

"Nah, I just dress like one. Makes people less likely to try to debauch me. You, on the other hand, you're just asking to be debauched."

Bucky blushed when he realized what had come out of his mouth and a glance at Steve showed he was red-faced as well.

"It is the right setting for it," Steve said, staring straight ahead at the row of whips on the other wall. "I just have to find the right person, I guess. Though you're wearing a collar, so that means you're taken, right?"

"It's, er, just a costume."

"Oh." And was that disappointment again? "I guess nobody here is really interested in anything beyond dress-ups."

"You sound disappointed."

Steve laughed again but this time there was none of the joy of his earlier laugh; it was all awkwardness and embarrassment. "It's just interesting, you know? To think about."

"What? Telling someone what to do in bed?"

Steve was still looking straight ahead but even in the dim light Bucky could see his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Or are you interested in being told?"

"No," Steve said and his voice sounded pensive. It seemed like he'd thought of this quite a bit. "I don't think I'd like that part at all." Then he seemed to realize he was having a conversation because he turned to Bucky, his face bright red. "I'm sorry. That was probably too much information from a guy you've only ever shared a history class with before."

"No. It's fascinating."

"I should probably go see what Thor's up to."

Bucky ducked away from his wings as he turned. "You could tell me what to do."

Where the hell had that come from? Steve was looking at him again like he was wondering exactly the same thing. 

"What?"

Bucky didn't reply at first. He stopped to think about it for a second, consider what this tall, good-looking blond would be like as a Dom. He was captain of the team, which meant he knew how to give orders, but the nervousness and embarrassment didn't bode well. Still, there was something gentle about him, something that said that Bucky wouldn't have to worry that the next hit would be in anger instead of love. He took two steps so he was standing in Steve's space, loving the way he had to look up at him.

"You could tell me what to do," he said, making the words slow and deliberate. "Hold me down. Pull my hair. _Use_ me."

"Really?" Steve was all wide-eyed wonder and Bucky had to laugh.

"Sorry. Dumb idea."

"No. It's not." Steve stepped forward, crowding Bucky back into the alcove, those ridiculous wings shielding them both from view. His hands moved slowly to grasp Bucky's wrists and press them above his head. "Is this okay?" Steve asked, sounding breathless.

"I'll tell you if it isn't."

"What will you say?"

Bucky thought for a moment before a grin spread across his face. "Captain America."

Steve's head fell forward, forehead resting against Bucky's. "I hate that name."

"Then you'll be sure to stop."

"I'm not sure what to –"

"Start with something simple," Bucky interrupted. "Start with a kiss."

Bucky wasn't sure why he was encouraging someone completely inexperienced to take control of him; wasn't sure why he'd encourage _anyone_ after his last experience. But there was something about Steve, something strong but still sweet, something sure and true, that made Bucky trust him. Something wound tight that made Bucky want to crack the angelic exterior and see the devil underneath.

Steve took his advice, and it was, well, disappointing, if Bucky was honest. It was tentative and nervous and Bucky thought that at least Steve was a good looking guy, even if the sex was going to be vanilla. Then Bucky wasn't thinking anything at all because Steve had stepped forward, crowding him against the wall so he couldn't even take a deep breath. One big hand threaded through his hair and tugged sharply until Bucky opened his mouth in a gasp.

Then Steve was invading, tongue thrusting deep into Bucky's mouth, teeth sharp against his lip. Bucky's cock had sprung to attention at the first pull of his hair and as Steve's hand tightened around his wrists, his hips pressed forward. A soft moan escaped him when he found Steve was hard as well.

"On your –" Steve's voice was thready and Bucky watched as he swallowed and spoke again. "On your knees." This time the command was strong and Bucky obeyed automatically. 

Steve was a large presence leaning over him, the wings just adding to his bulk, and Bucky found himself trapped between strong thighs and the wall. His eyes were groin-height so Bucky was staring at the bulge tenting Steve's pants. Bucky's mouth was watering, but Steve seemed to be hesitating again. Bucky looked up to find Steve smiling down at him softly, one hand reaching out to settle softly on his head. 

"Can I –" Bucky stopped and corrected himself automatically. " _May_ I suck your cock, Sir?"

"No need for 'Sirs'. Or proper grammar. But if you really want to suck me off, you're going to have to convince me that's what you want." Steve's head blocked the light so Bucky couldn't see his expression, but he could feel Steve's eyes on him as sure as he could feel the fingers pressing into his scalp. "You should convince me you'd be good at it."

God, was…? Steve wanted him to talk dirty; wanted him to beg. Bucky's cock was painfully hard in the unforgiving leather. He let his cheek rest against Steve's hip for one brief moment before Steve tugged him away and directed his eyes upward again.

"Well?"

" _Please,_ Steve, I want to suck your cock. I want to feel how hot it is, taste all the salt and sweat and musk on my tongue. I want to feel my mouth stretch around you, feel you hit the back of my throat. I can do that, you know. I can swallow all of you down until your pubic hair is scratching my nose. Think how tight it would be, my throat constricting around the head of your cock. I'd want you to spill down my throat, but if you wanted to pull out and come all over my face, mark me as yours, that would be good too." Bucky could see Steve's cock twitching in his pants; he wouldn't take much more convincing. "Please let me, Steve. _Please._ "

There was a light moan, then, "Hands behind your back." Bucky obeyed immediately. "If you want to stop, bring them up to my hips, otherwise they stay there. Understand?"

Bucky nodded.

"Good. Good." Steve sounded a little flustered.

"Did you want me to undo your pants with my teeth?"

"What? Oh, no. Sorry." The sheepish voice was back, but Steve was unbuckling his belt and then his pants and boxer briefs were pushed down under his balls and his cock was standing up, large and proud like the man himself. Maybe Bucky spoke too soon; he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to take all of Steve. He was going to have a damned good time trying, though.

He started with a lick at the tip of Steve's cock, cleaning up the pre-come that was smeared there. The taste went straight to his groin and he bucked his hips, not sure if the friction against the leather was delicious or more painful than anything he'd ever felt. He opened his mouth wider and there was that stretch he loved so much, the feel of full mouth and the smell of sweat and sex filling his nostrils.

He clutched his wrists tightly, not wanting to let go and have this end. He concentrated on controlling his body, taking in Steve's length, sucking as he drew back, moving more with each sway until he managed to take everything. He tilted his head slightly, and saw that Steve was staring straight down at him. A spotlight from somewhere else in the party glanced over them and Bucky could see the intense control etched in his face before the light skipped away.

Steve's hands were tight on his shoulders, helping him keep his balance, but Bucky wanted them on his head, stroking his face, pulling his hair, holding him still. He drew a deep breath and managed to mumble, "My hair." 

Steve didn't hesitate; he threaded his fingers into Bucky's hair and wound the length around one fist. Bucky moaned around his cock and Steve's hips stuttered, pushing his length deeper. Bucky could tell Steve was getting close, could see it in the tense quiver of his thighs, feel it in the clench and release of his hands at Bucky's scalp. 

He let his teeth out for a moment, dragging lightly along Steve's length, and that seemed to loosen something in Steve. But he didn't lose it; Steve's control was still iron tight when he looked down and said, "I'm going to fuck your face now."

If there was anything hotter than that sentence coming from the angel's lips, Bucky didn't know what it was. He moaned his assent, hoping the pleading look in his eyes would let Steve know that yes. Yes, this was better than okay. This was magnificent.

The light swept their corner again and Bucky caught a glimpse of Steve's lip caught in his teeth, his eyes shut tight as his cock thrust into Bucky's mouth in short, controlled thrusts. 

"Wanna mark you," Steve said as the light disappeared. "Want to come on your face and rub my scent into your skin so it will always be there. But, party. People."

The thread of possessiveness made Bucky's cock twitch in his pants. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, and Steve pushed deep, pulsing straight down his throat. 

"Bucky," Steve murmured and Bucky heard him even over the noise of the party. He stayed still, waiting patiently despite the throbbing between his legs. "You can rub off against me if you like," Steve said when he got his breath back. "You can choose – my shin or my thigh."

 _Fuck._ How was that sort of thing coming out of such an angelic mouth? Someone he would have described as naïve not half hour before? Bucky wanted to say thigh, but he wasn't sure he could stand. And he wanted to stay on his knees, hold tight to the feeling of supplication that had settled into him as he looked up at Steve, so he pushed the word, "Shin," out past his wrecked throat and bruised lips.

Steve pushed his foot between Bucky's legs and Bucky pressed against the hard muscle and bone of Steve's shin and began to rut. One of Steve's big hands was pressed between his shoulder blades, keeping Bucky's body pressed against the length of his leg; the other cradled the back of his head, holding it against Steve's hip.

It didn't take long for him to feel the pleasure building up, starting in his balls and spreading through his body, even as he tried to keep it in. "Please," he gasped.

"You don't need to wait," Steve said. "Come when you're ready."

Bucky was ready, thrusting hard against Steve and letting his groan be muffled by Steve's thigh as he pulsed, once, twice, leaving a sticky mess in his leather pants. 

"Fuck," he said, sitting back on his heels and feeling like every muscle had liquefied. Steve squatted in front of him, pulling his arms from behind his back and massaging feeling back into them, from biceps right down to his wrists.

"Are you okay?" he asked as his hands worked. "There's meant to be aftercare, isn't there?"

"Do your friends know you research kinky sex in your spare time?"

The question startled a laugh out of Steve. "No. Though if they looked closely over here they might have got an idea. I'm sorry about that."

"We're hidden over here. That's what the alcoves are for."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Bucky felt a little hazy. Not in sub-space, but messy and blissed out. "Yeah, I'm great."

"Can I get you anything? Do anything?"

"A drink would help. And-" He hesitated, not sure about asking.

"And?"

"Don't leave me? Don't leave me alone. For a little while at least."

"Why don't we both get a drink then go sit outside for a bit and stare at the stars? What's your poison?"

Five minutes later and they were sitting on a bench holding sodas, wings abandoned on the grass and trench coat over both their shoulders. The cool air had blown the fuzziness from Bucky's brain but he didn't move away from the hot line of Steve's body against his own.

"I - _Thank_ you, Bucky."

"There's –" Bucky shook his head. "Thank you." He fit himself tighter against Steve; he wanted to be petted for just a little while longer, before he had to go home to essays and a cold apartment and an early shift in the morning.

"I don't –"

Bucky waited for Steve to finish the sentence, but he didn't. "You don't what?"

"I don't know what happens now."

Bucky looked up at him. He hadn't thought about next; had thought the possessiveness was just something coming out in the moment. Maybe it still was and Steve was just being polite, but there was _want_ in Steve's eyes, and Bucky had been trusting him the rest of the night.

"You can start simple," he finally said. "Walk me home, kiss me good night. Say yes."

"Yes to what?"

"Do you want to go out some time? Dinner? A movie?"

"Yes."

Bucky smiled as he settled back into Steve's arm.


End file.
